In theory, I knew the way to stay warm involved layers, but since my winter sporting mainly consisted of trying not to slip on the ice in the Walmart parking lot, I had never embraced the act of donning multiple sets of clothing. But when my toes grew numb and the wind left my ears aching, I decided to give layers a whirl. Fleece-lined leggings under my jeans and a sweater beneath my coat were my first additions. A second hat under my hat kept my ears from freezing. I doubled up on socks and sometimes on gloves as well.  

On days when the temperatures dipped especially low, I opted for the goose down coat that hangs in the family closet. It hangs to my knees and the sleeves engulf my hands, but the toasty level of protection it provides can’t be bested. Even with my breath freezing in my nostrils and sub-zero frost clinging to my hair, I managed to stay warm.   

We all hope our lives will be filled with sunshine and happy days, but we also know we will sometimes be hit with storms. The car breaks down, a child gets sick, a job is lost, a loved one leaves, we face a death or a devastating medical diagnosis. Sometimes we get through one crisis only to be faced with another. At times the challenges seem to drag on longer than our strength to endure. We feel overwhelmed, unloved, or forgotten. Our faith may waver. We are left shivering in the cold.  

So how do we equip ourselves to handle the deep snow and icy temperatures that are an inevitable part of life?

The apostle Peter wrote, “And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge; And to knowledge temperance; and to temperance patience; and to patience godliness; and to godliness brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness charity” (2 Peter 1:5-7).  

We add layers.

Spiritual layers. 

We start wherever we are and begin building. We add to our layers each time we pray in earnest. Every time we open our scriptures and partake of God’s word, we add a layer. Each time we fast, do family history, minister, spend time in the temple, attend church, follow a prompting, we add layers, layers, layers. 

Building layers takes time. The Lord doesn’t expect us to do it all at once. In Isaiah 28:10 we learn, “For precept must be upon precept . . . line upon line . . . here a little, and there a little.”

Bit by bit. 

Little by little.

Layer upon layer. 

Our efforts may seem small. Simple. But “by small and simple things are great things brought to pass” (Alma 37:6). By consistently repeating our small and simple efforts, we build great layers. We make the effort to read His word over and over. We find a way to serve others again and again. We turn to Him in prayer every day, multiple times a day. As we do the work day by day, our layers grow thick and strong. 

There will be times when our layers won’t be enough, when even through our hard built protection, the cold creeps in. That first winter, the cheap boots I owned left my toes cold no matter how many layers of socks I wore. To keep my feet from freezing, I had to invest in higher quality footwear. 

When we face especially difficult challenges and our regular spiritual layers feel inadequate, we need to invest more. 

Investing in spiritual layers requires putting in greater effort. That doesn’t necessarily mean more time. It does mean expending more mental effort. Pouring out our souls in prayer rather than simply speaking words. Seeking to have the Spirit teach us from the scriptures rather than just reading words. Striving to know our Savior rather than simply knowing of Him. 

It means putting more trust in our Father in Heaven. More faith in His timing.

Elder Gerrit W. Gong of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “As we come to trust God, sometimes through pleading in our darkest, loneliest, most uncertain moments, we learn He knows us better and loves us more than we know or love ourselves” (Gerrit W. Gong, “All Nations, Kindreds, and Tongues,” October 2020). 

To read more of Cami’s articles, click here.

As we invest deeply in our spiritual layers, our efforts will bring us closer to the Savior. His power, His grace, His love will shelter us through the difficult trials. 

Nothing will stop the storms from coming, but as we build our relationship with Jesus Christ, we will feel His love wrap around us, engulfing us, providing the strength we need to weather whatever storms come our way. 

Our Savior Jesus Christ walks beside us through every storm. If we turn to Him, rely on Him, work to know Him day by day by day, no matter what frosty conditions swirl around us we will stay protected in His warm embrace.

Cami Klingonsmith

Cami lives in Idaho with her husband, various family members who come and go, and an energetic Siberian husky.
She volunteers as a costume director/seamstress for the drama department at her local high school where she gets to make elaborate clothing most people don’t wear in real life—which is what makes it so fun.
She enjoys reading, bird watching, gardening, and Zumba, but her greatest joy comes from being with her family.

I thought I would love not having to get ready for church meetings. I admit that holding sacrament meeting at home has been interesting. I enjoy holding the priesthood so I can bless and administer the sacrament for my family. Our musical qualities have a lot to be desired. My wife and I don’t play the piano, but we could always listen to the hymns with our phones. Our children play the piano, but they are in their own homes now. We have had the privilege of attending church meetings with them and their families in their homes. It has been a great experience. On occasion we still have children with us. The grandkids come to visit on occasion as well. These are special Sundays for all of us on.

Talk about special Sundays — we all have them. I have been in the Church my entire life. I can’t say that I am surprised with the recent changes in the Church and around the world. These modifications are needed and have reason, and I believe that they are ushering in the Second Coming. I hope so.

The pure love of Jesus Christ sustains and lifts us from the challenges of our day.

I remember going to church before the 3-hour block. And now we will all tell the story of attending church with face masks — but this is not the end, not yet.

We have peace despite the chaos in the world.

If you think this article is about sports or war, I can’t blame you. But the real message is that we can have peace in Christ and are all in this together. Our success is assured, if we simply endure to the end.

To read more of Walter’s articles, click here.

We are at war figuratively, especially in light of the coronavirus outbreak that seems to influence everything we do or don’t do right now. But we can’t forget the victory has already been determined, and none of this can frustrate God’s work.

I almost send this article to our editor numerous times, but the Lord was not finished with it yet. And He is not finished with any of us yet, either.

Incredibly, this apparent hardship too will promote His work and glory as well. His timeline is not ours.

Just watch. “Prove me now herewith” is the way that He put it.

Better yet, become deeply involved in the work — it will improve your life today just as it has for so many others.

Just watch.

Additional Readings: 

Triage of the Soul

Really Great Cathedrals

Calling an Audible: Finding Peace in Christ

I Was a Stranger

In Good Hands

The Greatest Comeback Ever

Don’t Miss This

Walter Penning

In 1989, Walter Penning formed a consultancy based in Salt Lake City and empowered his clients by streamlining processes and building a loyal, lifetime customer base with great customer service. His true passion is found in his family. He says the best decision he ever made was to marry his sweetheart and have children. The wonderful family she has given him and her constant love, support, and patience amid life’s challenges is his panacea.

For behold, I am God; and I am a God of miracles; and I will show unto the world that I am the same yesterday, today, and forever; and I work not among the children of men save it be according to their faith.

When our faith and desires for healing align with the Lord’s plan and will for our lives, miracles occur!

I’ve known Ella Glover for decades. She dedicates her life to serving others professionally and personally. She’s the Relief Society president of our new ward in Lubbock. Anthony and I have prayerfully watched her journey since hearing she contracted COVID several months ago.

Her COVID battle just ended. Ella shared her story with the Relief Society sisters recently and agreed to let me share her story (in her own words, which I have italicized below) more broadly to testify that we serve a God of miracles who knows us and loves us as individuals and as a collective humanity. Miracles are available in every form — healing is one, comfort when grieving a loved one’s loss is another.

What miracles do you see in your life? What miracle would you like to see? I invite you to search for the thing or trait or blessing you need most today and ask the Lord to give you a miracle for what you need most.

Ella Glover’s Miraculous COVID Healing

Ella Glover

Thank you so much for all of your prayers and for your concern for me as I battled for my life after I was diagnosed with COVID–19. I wanted to share my rather miraculous story with you. The Lord does perform miracles; I am living proof. Here are my past three months in a nutshell.

On August 20, 2020, I was diagnosed with COVID-19. My doctor called me in a Z-Pak and told me to quarantine myself for 10 days. He also said, “If you can’t breathe, call 911.”

I had another appointment to see my doctor on September 1 (11 days after the positive test). I got up that morning and drove to see my doctor, but I did feel as if I were short of breath. The doctor tested me and saw that my oxygen level was very low. I was immediately taken by ambulance to the emergency room and admitted to the hospital. Within 24 hours, I was moved into the COVID ICU.

Receiving A Blessing In COVID ICU

During my stay, I was put on four different breathing machines. After several tests, the doctors realized that I had no antibodies against COVID. I also have underlying health problems that could complicate things. The major one is leukemia, which I have had for 17 years, fortunately with no issues. However, because of the leukemia, my body did not make antibodies. To solve that problem, I was given plasma with someone else’s antibodies, but it would take several days before the antibodies would start to work.

I texted my son and asked if someone could come and give me a blessing. I know that there are members of the Church working at Covenant Hospital, and since I was on a strict “No Visitors” floor, I thought perhaps a priesthood holder who worked at the hospital could come.

Imagine my surprise when, within a few hours, into my room walks my son, the charming firefighter, in uniform. He looked so worried and nervous, but he gave me a beautiful blessing. He said that I would have a complete recovery and that the doctors would be “astonished” with my progress. After he left, I wrote down the few things that I could remember that he had said.

For the next 14 days, I hung on to this blessing as I tried to do everything the doctors told me to do. I would cling to every text and word of encouragement that I received. I felt my Savior at my side and I felt every prayer that was said on my behalf. 

Finally, after 18 days in the ICU, I was able to go home. I had to take home oxygen with me. I was on it 24/7 and was instructed to wean myself off it.

Thirty-Day Checkup

Ella the day she got home from the hospital

Thirty days after coming home, I had a follow-up appointment with my lung doctor. I just knew he would be happy with the fact that my oxygen was down to 2.5%, I was doing my physical therapy and I was feeling so good.

Well, it turned out that he was not happy. We looked at my X-rays and he gave me a diagnosis: I would be on oxygen for 6 months to a year and the damage and scar tissue I had was going to be a lifelong problem.

I was very sad. He decided to put me on another round of high dose steroids for a month and told me to come back in two weeks. Again, I was not happy, but I do listen to doctors.

“My Savior Loves Me and He Knows My Name”

A few days before the two-week appointment, I was able to go most of the day without oxygen. The closer it came to the appointment, the longer I could go without oxygen — it was working.

Happy to be home

The morning of the appointment, I was hopeful that he was going to tell me something good. They did a chest X-ray, and within a few minutes, he walked into the room. His first words were, “You’re healed. Your oxygen level is perfect and your lungs are clear.”

I said, “What about the scar tissue?”

He replied, “It’s all gone. I am astonished.”

He actually said it twice. We talked for about 20 minutes as he told me about the previous day. He had hospital duty and five of his patients died.

He said, “We are at a loss on how to help COVID patients, so we just throw everything we have at it and hope it works. You have received two miracles, Mrs. Glover. I am just astonished at your recovery.”

I replied, “My Savior loves me and He knows my name. I have had hundreds of people praying for me, and I know that I have a lot of work to still do on this earth.”

Delisa Hargrove

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have moved 64 times and have not tired of experiencing this beautiful earth! I love the people, languages, histories/anthropologies, & especially religious cultures of the world. My life long passion is the study & searching out of religious symbolism, specifically related to ancient & modern temples. My husband Anthony and I love our bulldog Stig, adventures, traveling, movies, motorcycling, and time with friends and family.

 “For there is a time appointed for every man, according as his works shall be.” (Doctrine and Covenants 121:25)

 

“Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.” (Doctrine and Covenants 122:9)

 

“And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them.” (Doctrine and Covenants 42:46)

My faith came to a head recently as our family faced the mortality of our dad as he fought for his life.

Testing Positive for COVID-19

My parents are Darrell and Darla Bushman. Our family’s COVID-19 story started when someone unknowingly becoming infected and unintentionally infected others. Sounds pretty typical, right?

Little Brooke caught the virus from a SPED classmate who attended school on Friday. Before her family was notified of the exposure, our family had a Sunday night family dinner because nearly all of my parents’ family was in Utah that weekend. We were only missing two sons-in-law working in other states and a granddaughter at college.

Mom sat by Brooke on the couch with grandmotherly care and attention. Brooke seemed extra tired and uninterested in her surroundings. When the gathering was over, Dannen lifted Brooke into the car, the Holy Ghost whispered to him that she was COVID-19 positive.

The next morning, Monday morning, the school called their family and confirmed her classmate had tested positive. Dannen and Claudia loaded up their whole family and went to get tested.

On Tuesday, they learned that almost everyone in their family tested positive for COVID-19. They immediately messaged the extended family the results. Only Dannen really experienced symptoms. The rest were positive and asymptomatic aside from some tasteless/smell-less symptoms.

On Wednesday, Mom began experiencing symptoms. Dad drove her to get tested that morning. On Thursday, her test results confirmed she has COVID-19.

On Thursday, Dad began feeling symptoms. He didn’t see any need to get tested since the dominoes were falling that direction.

On Friday evening, I began feeling symptoms. I’d planned to stay with Mom and Dad for just over two weeks sandwiched between a move from Hawaii to Texas. By this time, my husband had been in Texas for a month.

A few other family members had cold or flu-like symptoms and got tested for coronavirus but no one else in our family gathering tested positive for COVID-19. The only two people in our entire family who I worried about being adversely affected by COVID-19 both tested positive. The grandchild who caught the virus from a classmate has underlying medical conditions. The other person I worried about was Dad. He was in the highest mortality underlying condition category — age, type 2 diabetes, etc.

Our cousins’ uncle (who was in dad’s demographic) contracted the virus on a Saturday and was dead on Wednesday. Others we knew were sharing harrowing and fatal experiences with COVID-19. I began watching both parents with hypervigilance.

A Blessing with Promise

General Conference began on Saturday on the first weekend of October. Mom, Dad, and I lounged in the living room with fuzzy blankets and liquids for two days watching conference.

Saturday night, I felt fear for the first time when Dad stood up to walk from his chair to the bed and lost all his muscle strength. Mom and I helped him to bed and then I texted my brothers Donovan and Daylen to see if they could give Dad a priesthood blessing. While I waited for them to come to the house, my mind ran the gamut of emotions and expectations.

In the back of my mind, I expected COVID-19 to kill my dad. I knew Dad had lived a full and good life, a life made better and whole through the grace of Jesus Christ. I knew he’d lived longer than many beloved men in our family.

I knew that I believed the scriptures quoted above. I knew the Lord knows the details of our lives and when those lives are finished.

I realized that I’d asked my brothers to give Dad a blessing so I could hear the will of the Lord outside of my own chaotic emotions and desires.

A few minutes before I expected them to arrive, I told Dad what I had done to make sure that was okay with him. He said he would like a priesthood blessing.

Despite the peril of walking into Coronaville, my brothers came. They were masked up, concerned, and ready to serve. They gave dad a powerful priesthood blessing which I felt prompted to record. The blessing promised that Dad could be completely healed and said that Dad had not finished his work on Earth.

I totally believed the words of that blessing and expected Dad to begin recovering. I played the blessing for Dad a couple of times during hard days to remind him of the Lord’s promises to him.

Navigating COVID-19 Symptoms

Dad lounging in bed

Our common symptom was fatigue. The virus seriously knocked us flat energy-wise. Then Mom began bouncing back. Dad didn’t. In all fairness, Mom is the healthiest person in our family and the person I least expected to have long-term impacts (though when I first heard she had the virus, my heart dropped because I knew this deadly virus had taken so many healthy lives).

Dad began spending his days lying in bed trying to deal with severe COVID-19 symptoms. At one point he said he could feel where every bone in his body connected to another bone. We reasoned Dad was a day or so behind mom and he would back bounce more slowly. But eventually, we had to admit he wasn’t bouncing back at all. He was declining rapidly.

My sister Destinee had coworkers who kept insisting we get an oximeter to test everyone’s oxygen saturation. I had one on my phone so checked our levels regularly. I honestly didn’t know how accurate it was but since our levels were in the high 90s, we felt that was fine.

Eight days into dad’s coronavirus experience, on Friday, Destinee messaged us asking if we’d gotten an oximeter yet. We hadn’t. When I tried to check dad’s levels on my phone, I really had to struggle to keep his finger over the sensor. When we finally got a reading, his oxygen saturation level had dropped below 90. Mom’s was 97. Mine was 96. Dad’s was 88.

Around that same time, Claudia messaged to see if we needed anything. I asked if she could buy an oximeter and bring it to us. She did.

We tested Dad. Testing on the oximeter was way easier than on my phone. By then he was at 84. Mom and I were basically the same as my phone’s reading; it was a relief to me to know I hadn’t been deceived.

But Dad… Dad’s reading dropped again. The oximeter read “82.”

Mom and I talked as we looked at Dad on his bed. He’d been largely unresponsive. We knew we needed to take him to the emergency room.

The Emergency Room

I pulled the car sideways on the driveway for easier access. Mom got Dad into some comfy pajama bottoms. We tried to get slippers on his feet but finally gave up and told him to walk barefoot to the car. Then we spent the next 10 minutes on the usually 20-second journey from his bedroom to the driveway.

Dad kept becoming unresponsive as he walked. It was like he’d black out on his feet! He would take a couple of steps and then just become blank. I’d speak loudly and say, “OK, Dad, on three, we’re going to take a few more steps.” “OK, Dad, on three.” “OK, Dad, on three.”

My own COVID-19 body imploded with exhaustion. Mom was straining, too. “OK, Dad, on three.” “Good job. Two more steps.” “OK, Dad, on three.”

And then he crumpled into the passenger seat. Mom got him situated. I ran into the house to shut doors and turn off lights.

And away we went to the hospital. We hadn’t taken a moment to text the family what was happening. Less than a minute into our drive, my nephew Austin called his grandma to see how she and Grandpa were doing. She unloaded the news on him. He told his parents and the messages sprang into action. That was such a tender mercy for us to have Austin’s call at that moment.

We quickly arrived at the hospital (it’s not far from my parents’ home). We talked out a plan as we drove into the ER area. Mom jumped out immediately when I stopped. I unbuckled Dad and asked how he was. He made some wry comments. I told him I loved him.

Mom came out with a wheelchair. That surprised me. Where was the flurry of medical help? We got Dad into the wheelchair and mom wheeled him into the hospital to triage.

Waiting all alone at the ER

I parked and then went into the empty hospital lobby waiting area. I could see through the doors to where Mom spoke to triage and Dad sat in the chair. He looked so stony. He didn’t move at all.

I didn’t know what to expect, but Mom went with Dad back to a room. I was surprised. I still sat all alone and picked up the messaging thread to update everyone.

I looked up to see a nurse striding quickly to me. She said I couldn’t stay. They would let Mom stay with Dad, but I couldn’t stay. I drove back home.

I sat on the couch and cried. In my mind, Dad going to the hospital was a death sentence. I listened to dad’s blessing again. It rejuvenated my faith. I got up and started cleaning Mom and Dad’s bathroom to keep my mind busy.

A few hours after dropping Dad off at the ER, Mom called and said they were ready for pickup. At that point, doctors said his lungs had a little fluid but not COVID pneumonia. Dad came home with an oxygen tank, which was a new experience for the three of us. The nurse gave me a quick oxygen tank lesson as Dad got back in the car.

Dad was significantly improved! He walked by himself into the house. What a testament to oxygen’s impact on our bodies.

Trying to Manage COVID-19 Again from Home

The nurse told mom to call the oxygen company, which she called immediately. The employees are on-call, especially late on Friday nights. Mom and Dad were both trashed and it was so late, so I told them to go to bed and I’d wake them up when the oxygen guy arrived. I fell asleep while waiting on the couch. I’m half-deaf, so I worry about hearing things if I fall asleep.

Luckily, I jerked awake at the sound of the doorbell and ran to open the door. It was the oxygen guy. He asked if any of us had been exposed to the coronavirus and I was, like, “Um, yeah, we all have it.” He said every call he’d done that day had been to homes with COVID-19.

I woke up Mom and Dad and we put masks on and oxygen man gave us serious lessons on oxygen. We filled out tons of paperwork. He was there for almost two hours! But when he left, Dad had an oxygen machine and really long tubes so he could move around the house without a tank.

The ER doctor’s orders said to have Dad on 2 liters per minute (lpm). So we did and were super proud of that. Then suddenly, I felt a prompting to check dad’s oxygen saturation level. It was 82 on 2 lpm! Yikes!

Mom called the ER to see what we should do. They gave us better instructions about moving the oxygen amount as needed, up to 4 lpm. Dad’s saturation stabilized above 90 at 3.5 lpm and we all went to sleep.

Dad’s signature wave

Dad spent Saturday in bed. My brother set him up with access to watch the BYU football game and Dad watched football on a laptop in bed. He seemed to be improving.

He made a joke about living as long as the peach leaves stayed on the tree right outside his bedroom window, specifically one peach leaf. We said we’d paint a leaf on the window like in that sob story video “The Last Leaf.”

Dad is uber extroverted. Being stuck in any box for 10 days is excruciating for him. I messaged an invite for my siblings to come to say hi at his window. We bundled up the bed since it was a little chilly out and his kids and grandkids started visiting the window. Having eight kids means that even if visits are short, there are still a lot of them.

My siblings kept their visits short and usually, there were some good time gaps between them. Dad remained horizontal and not expected to entertain or do anything at all except give his characteristic wave, which is to hold his arm up with his hand flopped over.

Watching the window parade, I realized that Dad going to the ER similarly impacted my siblings, too.

The Emergency Room Part 2

Dannen and Claudia’s family were the last to visit late in the afternoon. Dad got out of bed to use the bathroom. Bathroom breaks were generally quite exhausting. When he didn’t come out as soon as expected, I volunteered Dannen to go see if Dad needed help. He helped dad get back in bed.

We checked the oximeter and dad’s oxygen was in the low 80s again. We waited to see if being in bed would help him recover, but it didn’t. We upped the oxygen to 4. Dad’s lungs didn’t respond to that. I pushed it to the machine’s limit at 5 but it didn’t increase Dad’s saturation.

We knew we had to take him to the ER again. Dad didn’t argue when we told him that news. Claudia loaded up their kids. Dannen helped me and Mom load up dad in the car. He rode with us to the hospital while Claudia closed up the house.

Again Mom ran into the hospital. This time a wheelchair came much more quickly. We got Dad and his oxygen tank out and Mom whisked him away to triage. I told Dad I loved him before he got out of the car.

When I parked the car, I realized I had forgotten to put shoes on. I knew the hospital staff wouldn’t let me in the hospital anyway, so stood barefoot peering through a window with Dannen. Claudia and her kids arrived. She messaged the family about what was happening.

Suddenly Mom came out and said they wouldn’t let her stay with Dad. What? We couldn’t believe it. Dannen went in to see if he could persuade them. Apparently letting Mom stay before was against policy and the Sunday night staff were in no mood to break policy.

We were totally blindsided as we suddenly realized we’d just dropped Dad off completely alone. We freaked out. We couldn’t drive away. We just stood at the ER door in disbelief. Cutting Dad off from people/his family/especially mom is torture.

Finally, probably since there were kiddos waiting patiently in a vehicle, we knew there wasn’t anything left to do. We went home.

The Transfer to the Veterans Hospital and COVID-19 Pneumonia

Dad being loaded into the ambulance

After an hour or so, the ER called Mom saying that Dad was being transferred to the Veterans Hospital in Salt Lake City by ambulance. That’s about an hour drive. Mom and I drove back to the hospital to give Dad their shared cell phone so Dad would have access to call. A nurse met mom to get the phone.

While driving out of the parking lot, we saw an ambulance driving in and knew it was for Dad, so I flipped a U-turn and parked where we could see the ambulance entrance. It felt like forever but suddenly the ambulance drivers emerged suited up for COVID-19. What a sight to see! Then they wheeled Dad out on a gurney and put him in the ambulance, and then they calmly drove away with our dad.

With no other recourse available, I posted my first social media post asking for prayers for Dad.

Since Dad now had Mom’s cell phone in Salt Lake City, my phone became the connection source to Dad and the hospital. My phone rang at 1:30 a.m. that first night with the first nurse check-in. I ran upstairs and woke up Mom so she could talk to the nurse. The VA hospital admitted Dad to a regular room, but because he had COVID-19 no one would be able to visit him. We were grateful for the check-in.

The Veterans Hospital staff were amazing at keeping us informed and answering questions. We appreciated all of their collective help at helping us understand the hopes and reality of Dad’s situation.

Dad’s Visitor Before ICU

On Monday morning, Dad told us he had a dream where his dad came to him. Dad said seeing his father was really comforting. Mom and I cried because we felt like that was a direct answer to our prayers that Dad wouldn’t feel or be alone. We also didn’t know if that was just a comforting moment or an omen that Grandpa was coming for Dad.

On Tuesday, a doctor called to tell us Dad was being moved to ICU because he did have COVID-19 pneumonia that was destabilizing his lungs. What a blow. We couldn’t believe it. ICU.

I think most of us thought ICU was a death sentence for Dad… But he didn’t die.

Our faith, hope, and prayers for Dad’s complete recovery continued despite the fact that we didn’t know what Dad needed to do to complete his work on the earth. We didn’t have any indication if his work would take a few days or years to complete.

The next day, a doctor called to let us know of Dad’s continual decline and his potential need to be on a ventilator. He talked to mom about medical power of attorney. He said Dad’s will was to be resuscitated as necessary and to fight for his life. We readily agreed with that.

Ventilator. The ventilator represented my deepest fear for Dad.

A Divine Hand During the Most Desperate Decline

That was the night I completely surrendered my will to God. I’d clung to the blessing promising complete healing, but I knew I had to let it go and place all my faith in the hands of God, regardless of what resulted. All.

Hundreds of friends and family were praying for Dad. I felt the power of their prayers sustaining us. It was so tangible. Mom and I were still kind of fragile ourselves and I felt strengthened from the sheer volume of support. What a blessed miracle!

I knelt in prayer thanking Heavenly Father for the prayers and positive vibes for Dad. I told Him the same thing I had prayed before — I knew Dad had lived a full and good life, a life made better and whole through the grace of Jesus Christ. I knew he’d lived longer than many beloved men in our family. I knew that I believed the scriptures quoted above. I knew the Lord knew the details of our lives and when those lives are finished. And I offered the clinging, afraid of loss, clutching-at-air part of myself to Him.

At that moment, He gave me a gift. In a very tangible way, I saw something in my mind’s eye that absolutely concreted my assurance in Dad’s recovery. I knew that with the Lord’s help, Dad would recover. I texted my family in the middle of the night of my experience.

The next day, Dad’s first day on the ventilator, the nurse exuberantly told mom, “He’s sitting up in his chair!” Through the nurse, Dad communicated to mom with the nurse asking questions and Dad communicating through shrugs and eye gestures. Then the nurse put the phone next to Dad, who couldn’t talk, but just listened, and Mom talked into space for an hour.

We rejoiced! That defied all of the odds. And Dad continued to improve — some days more than others — until on October 27th, a doctor asked mom when she could be in Salt Lake City to pick up Dad from the Veterans Hospital! She said she would leave right that minute. The doctor chuckled and said to give them an hour or so and they planned a time.

Picking Up Dad from the VA Hospital

Dad being discharged from the VA Hospital

Mom drove us to the VA hospital in record time. Destinee came over from her lab a few blocks away. We three waited for Dad together.

We saw some nurses wheeling someone in a wheelchair. Was that Dad? No, it couldn’t be. The man was so frail and hunched. Our dad filled the room when he entered it.

But it was Dad! We rushed to him. His eyes followed us but he didn’t physically react at all. One nurse gave mom and Destinee loads of instructions while the other nurse helped me load all of Dad’s new gear in the car.

Then we moved Dad from the wheelchair into the car and got the oxygen tank reconnected in the back seat. The nurse spoke to Dad in Spanish. Apparently, he’d served a mission in Chile too. Of course, Dad loved that.

We buckled Dad in, said goodbye to Destinee, and Mom drove off with her BFF at her side, so happy and glowing to have him back. Dad’s vitality increased as the realization that he was actually going home became more and more of a reality.

Recovering From COVID-19

Dad’s recovery plan

Dad promised Mom he would recover and he’s challenged himself to overcome the obstacles he still faces. He’s working hard to make that happen. And it is happening, step by step and day by day.

There are several things we attribute to Dad’s steady progress.

• It was God’s will that Dad lives and finish his work on the earth.
• A multitude of prayers petitioned God for recovery and enabled divine assistance to prevail.
• Dad’s ward fasted and prayed for his recovery. That act of love brings Dad to tears every time he speaks of it.
• Dad’s siblings/in-laws sent encouraging and heartfelt messages. Mom and I read them all to Dad to help him not feel alone. They buoyed his soul during the especially trying times.
• Dad talked or listened to Mom every day. He needed that connection to her.
• Knowing that he was so loved and prayed for gave Dad the desire and strength to fight for survival. We are all so grateful for the outpouring of love, faith, and prayers.

“To Give You An Expected End”

During this same time frame, many friends and loved ones said goodbye to people they most love. Every day I deeply felt the juxtaposition of Dad’s life and other loved ones’ deaths.

To read more of Delisa’s articles, click here.

The Lord’s words to Jeremiah encapsulated what I learned from the Spirit as I floundered between joy and grief during those days… and still.

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

For He does know us and part of His eternal plan for our salvation includes mortality, a mortality of varying times and seasons. Our days are known and numbered to Him and when it’s our appointed time, He brings us home — home to Him. Home to the arms of His love and to the peace of His glory. Home.

Delisa Hargrove

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have moved 64 times and have not tired of experiencing this beautiful earth! I love the people, languages, histories/anthropologies, & especially religious cultures of the world. My life long passion is the study & searching out of religious symbolism, specifically related to ancient & modern temples. My husband Anthony and I love our bulldog Stig, adventures, traveling, movies, motorcycling, and time with friends and family.

But hoping it would be a fun, shared experience for us, I chose to go. 

We began our climb early in the morning, hiking through fields of wildflowers, past burbling streams and melodious waterfalls. Then we scaled tall rocks and trekked up steep switchbacks. 

At one point, we side-skirted a moose that wasn’t interested in moving off the trail and later did some back-pedaling to avoid two black bears directly in our path.

We practiced our balancing skills while clambering over a field of loose rock.

We happened on some old friends who we hadn’t seen in years.

As we neared the top, the trail grew steeper and steeper, ending with a precarious scramble up a rock face to the plateau of Table Mountain.

Seated atop the summit, we relished the view while nibbling peanut butter sandwiches. 

I felt tired, but oh-so-accomplished. The trail had indeed been difficult, but there had been beauty and blessings and unexpected surprises along the way. 

Check “hike Table Mountain” off my bucket list. 

Of course, we still had to go back down.   

As we started the downhill trek I wondered, had it been this rocky on the way up? Somehow, my toes seemed to hit every rock jutting out of the ground. After three and a half miles, the constant pounding made each step painful. Stopping to soak our feet in the icy water pooled at the base of a waterfall provided a temporary reprieve. But then I had to put my shoes back on. 

Every step grew more and more excruciating. Each time we stopped to rest, I dreaded starting again. When I felt certain we must be nearly done, but our GPS said we still had 1.8 miles to go, I wanted to quit. Sit down on the trail and wait for rescue. 

Finally, finally, we made it to the bottom. 

By the time we had driven home I could barely stand.  

For one full week I couldn’t walk. 

For one full week my swollen toes made wearing shoes impossible.

For one full week I sat in a chair with my feet elevated.  

But I didn’t regret hiking the mountain. If I hadn’t gone, I would have saved myself the pain, but I would have missed out on all the good parts as well. 

Sometimes Heavenly Father asks us to take a journey and we’re not sure we want to attempt that hike. The journey might be letting go of an unhealthy habit. It could be forgiving someone who has wronged us, caring for an aged parent, accepting a challenging calling or ministering assignment. It might be returning to school, moving across the country, or serving a mission. 

He asks us to do things that are difficult. 

Sometimes we are skeptical. We might doubt our ability to do what He asks. We may not want the struggle, the pain, or the sheer amount of work involved. We might not want to give up the comfortable position we currently find ourselves in. But we can trust that when we choose the journey the Lord asks us to take, the trail will always lead to our good.  

Proverbs 3:5-6 tells us, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

We must move forward, trusting the Lord to direct our path even when the trail feels difficult or becomes painful, when we don’t know what the journey will entail, or we can’t see what the end will be — when the path feels too long and we want to give up, sit down, and await rescue. 

The trail our Savior asks us to hike may be difficult. In fact, it will probably be difficult, because doing hard things is how we grow, how we develop strength.   

Elder Stanley G. Wells, in his talk “Do We Trust Him? Hard is Good?” said:

 “It is hard for a baby chick to hatch out of that tough eggshell. But when someone tries to make it easier, the chick does not develop the strength necessary to live. . . 

 

Do we have the faith to trust [our Heavenly Father]?” (Stanley G. Wells, “Do We Trust Him? Hard is Good,” October 2017 General Conference). 

To read more of Cami’s articles, click here.

Doing the hard things, walking the difficult paths, is how we develop the spiritual strength necessary to follow Jesus Christ.   

Do we have the faith to trust that the difficult paths will be worth the struggle?

Do we trust the Lord to direct our journey? 

As you accept the journey the Lord asks you to take, trust that the rewards will outweigh the difficulties. There will be beauties and blessings and unexpected surprises along the way. When you look back and see those blessings and notice how you’ve been strengthened through the struggle, you will be grateful you chose to hike the mountain.

Cami Klingonsmith

Cami lives in Idaho with her husband, various family members who come and go, and an energetic Siberian husky.
She volunteers as a costume director/seamstress for the drama department at her local high school where she gets to make elaborate clothing most people don’t wear in real life—which is what makes it so fun.
She enjoys reading, bird watching, gardening, and Zumba, but her greatest joy comes from being with her family.

For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in all things. If not so, my firstborn in the wilderness, righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, all things must needs be a compound in one; wherefore, if it should be one body it must needs remain as dead, having no life neither death, nor corruption nor incorruption, happiness nor misery, neither sense nor insensibility. (1 Nephi 2:11)

Since that short conversation with my husband, I’ve thought all day about the things in my life that made me grow, and the things that strengthened my faith. None of those things were good things; and none of them was easy. I was 22 years old when I gave birth to my first child, who was born with a lung cyst the size of a baseball. She had two major surgeries before she was 12 hours old. Life was not easy for her (or us) for the first 18 months of her life. I grew up quickly. My faith grew by leaps and bounds. It continued to grow through other sick babies, a miscarriage, very rough financial times, deaths of our parents, and later, the unexpected death of my stepson.

Each time I thought I couldn’t get through something, I found peace through the Holy Ghost. The Savior had walked in my shoes and carried my burdens. He had felt my pain. The Holy Ghost wrapped me in the love of the Savior and my Heavenly Father. It was tangible. It was real. Each time that happened, my faith grew.

A worldwide pandemic is certainly opposition. To that, we can add economic struggles, an ugly political arena, social injustice, and civil unrest. Sometimes the opposition seems overwhelming—until I pray. Reverent and humble prayer squelches the heavy feelings of the heart. Then-President Dieter F. Uchtdorf described those heavy feelings as darkness and despair.

The adversary uses despair to bind hearts and minds in suffocating darkness. Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Despair kills ambition, advances sickness, pollutes the soul, and deadens the heart. Despair can seem like a staircase that leads only and forever downward.

 

Hope, on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn. It encourages and inspires us to place our trust in the loving care of an eternal Heavenly Father, who has prepared a way for those who seek for eternal truth in a world of relativism, confusion, and of fear (President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, “The Infinite Power of Hope,” Oct. 2008 General Conference).

I highly recommend reading the above talk by President Uchtdorf in its entirety. In fact, it would make good daily reading if you find yourself struggling.

To read more of Tudie’s articles, click here.

There is no reason to despair—at least not a good one. There are lots of reasons—all  good—to have faith and hope. Despair does not come from Heavenly Father or Jesus Christ. Light, hope, and faith come from Them through the Holy Ghost.

We all have our trials of life to strengthen us. Each thinks he has the hardest or most severe trials. It may be that they are the most difficult only because they are the hardest or most difficult for you. The diamond is enhanced and made more valuable with polishing. Steel is made harder and more valuable through tempering. So also opposition builds the character of man (Elder Eldred G. Smith, “Opposition in Order to Strengthen Us,” Oct. 1973 General Conference).

Pandemic, social injustice, civil unrest, economic issues, health issues, family problems, lapse in good personal judgment, pain caused by the actions of others—all these things are oppositions or trials that build and strengthen our faith. We are diamonds in the rough being polished by opposition. The natural man in all of us is being tempered through these things. We will get through it all, and we will be better people coming out of these dark times. We are building our faith through opposition one brick at a time. What good would a brick home be if it were missing some of the bricks? God could take away some of our dark moments, but our home would be missing some bricks that keep us dry in winter and cool in summer. He wants us to build strong brick homes to weather all storms. The natural man needs to be tempered by opposition to build the kind of faith needed for our progression. Don’t despair; let the light of Jesus Christ permeate your soul. We will get through it all.

Tudie Rose

Tudie Rose is a mother of four and grandmother of ten in Sacramento, California. You can find her on Twitter as @TudieRose. She blogs as Tudie Rose at http://potrackrose.wordpress.com. She has written articles for Familius. You will find a Tudie Rose essay in Lessons from My Parents, Michele Robbins, Familius 2013, at http://www.familius.com/lessons-from-my-parents.

I hadn’t read this particular book, but I was familiar with Sister Dew and always loved her frank way of speaking and writing. As my friend explained, Sister Dew talked about the concept of submitting our wills to the Lord’s.

The perfect example of submitting is Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew that it was His Father’s plan for Him to be our Savior and atone for our sins. Yet it was not something that He particularly wanted to experience. We don’t know what was going through our Savior’s head at that time, but we do know that He asked the Father in humble prayer if this cup might pass from Him, if there was any way He could avoid what He was about to experience. Then He added, “Not my will, but Thine be done.” (Luke 22:42)

Christ trusted in the will of the Father and submitted to it completely. There are times when we are called upon to do the same. We aren’t asked to atone for the sins of the world, but there are times when we are asked to sacrifice things we would like to have or do in order to do other things that the Lord asks of us. There are times when we have our own plans, but the Lord asks us to do something else that may not fit in with them or that even make sense to our mortal minds.

I am not familiar enough with the book by Sister Dew to know if I am quoting Sister Dew or my friend, but that’s where the concept of “…or something better” comes in. When we trust in the Lord, we realize that His plans for us are so much greater and grander than anything we could come up with on our own. And we can even reach the point where we can gladly submit to them.

So when we have a need we’re praying for, we might pray that we receive what we think we need, “…or something better.”

Joseph Forgiving His Brothers, by Ted Henniger

Joseph, sold into slavery in Egypt, told the truth and kept his virtue and was cast into prison as a result. Perhaps he prayed for release. Yet the Lord had “something better” in mind for him. In prison he was able to interpret dreams and gain the trust of the Pharaoh, and eventually save Egypt and his own family from a terrible famine. As he told his family, “Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life.” (Genesis 45:5) Perhaps it was difficult for Joseph to reach the point where he believed this, but as he looked back on his life, he could see the hand of the Lord in the things that had come to pass.

Sometimes we may pray to get a particular job, or a particular date, or any number of other opportunities, only to realize later that this would have been all wrong for us. Again, the Lord in His infinite wisdom knows the big picture and can guide us toward “something better” even when we’re sure we have things all figured out.

My friend is now facing what I hope we can see as “something better” for her. She has been in and out of the hospital and so far the prognosis has not been encouraging. Saying “it must be the Lord’s will” can seem cold and hollow to someone whose life has just been ripped apart, but at the same time I know that our loving Heavenly Father is and always has been mindful of her. And things that seem tragic here in this mortal life will make a lot more sense in the next life when we, too, can see the big picture and how the Lord’s plans for us have unfolded.

This post was originally published in November 2007. Minor changes and updates have been made.

Katie P

Deborah said to Barak,

Hath not the Lord God of Israel commanded, saying, Go and draw toward mount Tabor, and take with thee ten thousand men of the children of Naphtali and of the children of Zebulun?

 

And I will draw unto thee to the river Kishon Sisera, the captain of Jabin’s army, with his chariots and his multitude; and I will deliver him into thine hand.

 

And Barak said unto her, If thou wilt go with me, then I will go: but if thou wilt not go with me, then I will not go.

 

And she said, I will surely go with thee: notwithstanding the journey that thou takest shall not be for thine honour; for the Lord shall sell Sisera into the hand of a woman. And Deborah arose, and went with Barak to Kedesh.

 

And Barak called Zebulun and Naphtali to Kedesh; and he went up with ten thousand men at his feet: and Deborah went up with him.

Going Up to Mount Tabor

Color photo of Mount Tabor taken in the Late 19th century by French photographer, Bonfils

With Deborah’s presence, Barak obediently formed the army and they all went up to Mount Tabor.

Mount Tabor rises almost 2,000 feet from the plains, a half-spherical hill in Lower Galilee. Christian tradition identifies Tabor as the Mount of Transfiguration. But that history hadn’t occurred when Deborah, Barak, and the army of men from Zebulun and Naphtali obeyed the Lord’s counsel to go up to Tabor.

Going to the River Kishon

When Sisera heard about Barak’s army on Mount Tabor, he readied his 900 chariots of iron and all the people that were with him and went to the River Kishon.

The scripture records:

And the Lord discomfited Sisera, and all his chariots, and all his host, with the edge of the sword before Barak; so that Sisera lighted down off his chariot, and fled away on his feet.

The Lord Fights the Battles at Mount Tabor

How did the Lord discomfit Sisera’s hosts leaving them vulnerable to Barak’s army? What would make Sisera leave his strategically advantageous chariot?

Judges 5 is the Song of Deborah. She starts off her song of praise and worship this way:

Praise ye the Lord for the avenging of Israel, when the people willingly offered themselves.

Hear, O ye kings; give ear, O ye princes; I, even I, will sing unto the Lord; I will sing praise to the Lord God of Israel.

Lord when thou wentest out…the earth trembled, and the heavens dropped, the clouds also dropped water.

I imagine the Lord sending a miraculous torrential storm flooding the banks of the river and rendering chariots useless and stuck in the mud.

So to save himself, Sisera left his chariot stuck in the mud and ran and ran to Heber and Jael’s tent where he ultimately perished at Jael’s hand.

The Canaanite God Failed His Worshippers

This salvation through storm fascinates me because Sisera’s god was Ba’al, the Canaanite weather god with specific power over wind, rain, lightning, and fertility. The Canaanites attributed their dry summers to Ba’al’s summer visits to the underworld. He returned from the underworld and brought fall rains to revive the earth. But in this day of battle, their god failed them.

Sisera and his 900 iron chariots found passage along the River Kishon until the Lord discomfited them there and

The river of Kishon swept them away, that ancient river, the river Kishon. O my soul, thou hast trodden down strength.

The Kishon River also became the endpoint for the priests of Ba’al who contended in Elijah’s sacrifice challenge.

And Elijah said unto them, Take the prophets of Baal; let not one of them escape. And they took them: and Elijah brought them down to the brook Kishon, and slew them there.

Let Them Be As the Sun

The Lord commanded the Israelites to go up to Tabor. At His word, they descended from the mountain to the plains where Sisera’s army were near the river. Then, in miraculous fashion, the Lord fights the battle leaving the Israelites with a victory after some effort. Even though Barak reluctantly accepted this call to gather and lead the Lord’s people into battle, he still saw a victory. Because of the Lord, Israel was victorious.

Deborah’s recounting of the war song ends with beautiful imagery:

So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord: but let them that love him be as the sun when he goeth forth in his might.

When I sat with this story this time, I made a quick stick figure drawing of Mount Tabor. Unexpectedly, It reminded me of a sunrise and representations of images symbolizing when Heaven meets Earth.

My stick figure drawing of Mount Tabor

So when Deborah sang of the Lord’s followers to be as the “sun,” I saw a connection between Barak’s revelation in going to a physical mountain to see the Lord’s power and might revealed and my going to the mountain, in all of its forms and meanings, armed with the Lord’s word and with faith that He will deliver me, too.

Delisa Hargrove

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have moved 64 times and have not tired of experiencing this beautiful earth! I love the people, languages, histories/anthropologies, & especially religious cultures of the world. My life long passion is the study & searching out of religious symbolism, specifically related to ancient & modern temples. My husband Anthony and I love our bulldog Stig, adventures, traveling, movies, motorcycling, and time with friends and family.

The Story of the Swordsmith

A swordsmith was a new convert to the Christianity and did his best to live up to his baptismal commitments. Yet almost immediately after his conversion, his life was beset with trial after trial that pressed heavy on his heart and brought him to his knees. A friend who was not of his faith witnessed what was happening. In his eyes, he saw the newfound religion doing absolutely no good for his friend. While he continued to remain faithful, his trials seemed to worsen. One day the friend questioned the swordsmith about this. He asked why he could remain faithful to a god who continued to punish him mercilessly. The swordsmith paused and thought before he replied.

He held a wrought iron tong in one hand and a hammer in the other. Clutched between the tongs was a piece of metal which he held under the burning coals until it was fiery hot. He brought the metal out of the fire and while it was still glowing and malleable, he hammered it flat, folded it, then plunged it in a basin of water. He would need to repeat this sixteen times before he could begin to hammer it into a sword. When the steam cleared, he turned to his friend with this reply. “As a swordsmith, I need to use the strongest metals I can find that will hold up under the worst conditions. Otherwise, the sword I produce will be of no value. This piece of metal will soon be a fine sword.”

He motioned to a scrap pile against the wall. “But that metal over there could not take the constant heat, the pounding and shaping, and the sudden cooling. It is no good to me.” He looked back at the metal he was working with. “I am like this piece of metal. When I decided to be a true convert, I promised to change my old ways for something better. My God is my Master, somewhat like a swordsmith Himself. He did not promise me it would be easy, but He promised it would be worth it. If I cannot stand up to the trials in life and allow them to make me stronger, I am like that pile of metal in the corner—of no value to my Maker. But if I can endure the cycle of heat and pounding and water, I can become what my Master needs me to be. When the cycle finally comes to an end, and I have endured it well, I will be worth more than I am at this moment. I know my Master is not trying to break me down. He is trying to reshape me into something far better than I am today. I trust that He knows me better than I do.”

What the Friend Sees

As I go through my own trials in life, I picture myself in this story and ask, “Who am I?” Sometimes I am like the friend. I see the trials (or “fire”) people must endure and I wonder how they do it. Even my own trials at times seem too much to bear, and I question whether or not it’s worth the effort to endure. But the consequences of giving up or giving in have proven to be even less fruitful. What the friend sees is shortsighted. He magnifies the trial and diminishes the end result. He blames the Creator for causing pain, and then remains angry at Him for doing so.

What the Swordsmith Sees

The swordsmith is the one enduring the onslaught of trials and yet remains faithful to his God. He does not look at his trials or time in the fire as punishment but as a vehicle to take him to a higher state of being. He understands that through adversity he will become stronger. He understands this because of the work he does in his shop and his ability to project this into his life. But it does not stop there. He is able to see the spiritual benefits of endurance long before the sword is free of the refiner’s cycle.

The Refiner’s Cycle

Heat—pounding—cooling—repeat. This is the cycle used to create the perfect sword. It is also the spiritual cycle used to bring us to godliness. The heat softens the material. This is necessary to do before it can be reshaped into something useful. Spiritually speaking, the heat and fire represents the trials in our lives: anything that brings us to a humble heart and a contrite spirit. Our Heavenly Father cannot speak to us if we are not ready to listen. He cannot influence us if our hearts are hardened. Our nature is such that oftentimes it is the trials in life that soften us to our knees before we can stand taller.

Next comes the pounding. The sword must be folded sixteen times to strengthen the metal enough to be a proper sword. This requires a great deal of pounding. The spiritual pounding is the reshaping of our will to match the will of our Heavenly Father. But it is not our Father in Heaven who inflicts the pounding—we do that with our own will. The pounding comes from the wrestling in our heart between the ways of the world and the ways of the Lord as we come closer to taking the leap of faith to act righteously. While our Father in Heaven persuades us to make the right choices—choices to do good, choices to repent, choices that take us out of our comfort zone in order to give us opportunities to grow—Satan works harder to tighten his grip on us. While Heavenly Father reaches down to help us up, Satan pressures us to stay down. The back and forth is like a pounding. Until we act in faith and commit to the will of our Heavenly Father—like plunging into the basin of water—that pounding may last a while. But be of good cheer—it never lasts forever.

After the pounding comes the cooling. When the metal is thrust into the water, its chemical makeup changes, which helps strengthen it further. It solidifies the process allowing the steel to endure the heat again. In our spiritual lives, the cooling process is like the blessings we receive when we make the choices that line ourselves with our Heavenly Father’s will. Our hearts are changed, we are strengthened and blessed. We receive a special witness of His mercy and love—a witness that we cannot deny. The more trials we face, the more we repent under pressure, the more blessings we receive. And so, the stronger and more useful we become in God’s eternal plan.

To view more of Nanette’s articles, click here.

Finally we repeat. This is the hardest part—knowing that just once through the refiner’s fire is not enough. At times a trial is quick to overcome. Other times, trials can last a lifetime. But it is in how we face the trial, how we take to the pounding and reshaping that defines our state of endurance. Can we remember to thank our Father in Heaven for the gift of facing trials and for the blessings that come after we endure them? Or do we shake a fist at heaven and curse Him for our circumstances? In my life there have been times where as soon as I felt the refreshing cool water of relief I was thrown right back into the fire again. Other times I’ve felt the reshaping from my Father in Heaven take a little longer—sometimes due to my stubbornness but oftentimes because of circumstances in the world around me. I’ve also been able to look back and notice the times I endured well brought me closer to the Lord. We cannot abandon the last phase of the process. To repeat the process is as necessary as the process itself. It is not easy, but if we stay positive and keep an eternal perspective, in the end it will be worth it.

What God Has in Store for Us

It is difficult to imagine the immense blessings our Father in Heaven has in store for us, especially when we are in the fire. But we can see a tiny fraction of them when we remember the tender mercies we receive daily from Him. This is vital to our spiritual refinement. To be able to recognize the small blessings and to watch them add up allows us a glimpse of the enormity that awaits us in an infinite and perfect life with God. More importantly it helps us to endure the next round in the refiner’s fire, pushing us one step closer to godliness.

This article was originally published in June 2014. Minor changes have been made.

Nanette ONeal

Nanette O’Neal loves the gospel and is very happy to share her testimony on LDS Blogs. She is a convert to the church and still feels the spirit burn strong within her heart. She graduated from Mason Gross School of the Arts with a degree in music education and has taught children and adults in the private and public sphere for over twenty years. Nanette continues to study the gospel and the art of writing. She writes weekly inspirational articles on her blog and is currently working on an LDS fantasy novel series, A Doorway Back to Forever. You can find her at NanetteONeal.blogspot.com. Nanette has a wonderful husband, talented son, and three beautiful dogs.

In July of 2019, I was officially bored of being angry all of the time. It was so old. I had a whole life to live and I was exhausted of hating. I knew I was missing out on extraordinary friendships and family relationships and it was entirely my fault for missing out on them. I was even less inspired in all of my writing ventures. All of the wisdom I once had was gone, and I was a far more bitter and immature person. The place I knew I needed to start was the deep-rooted anger I had towards some individuals who’d come into my life and had been nothing but disrespectful to me.

Recognizing all of this, I decided to pray as an experiment for help to forgive these people. Kneeling, I began my prayer: “Dear Heavenly Father, I know that I’ve neglected and abused the mercy You’d extended to me before. But if You are still there, I’d like some help to turn over this anger and frustration to Christ. I’m so frustrated that anyone would feel free to be so awful to me after I’d done all that I could do to be kind to them.” Then, maybe a bit indulgently, I asked, “Also, God… If You’re there… If You could help me understand why I’d had such a hard time in the temple, why I felt so alone… I’d appreciate that help. If not, that’s okay.”

What I felt after the prayer was nothing short of a miracle. With warmth in my heart, I felt a gentle joy, recalling the past when I heard the Lord say “I’m here.” A series of clarity surrounding the people I’d been angry with and what I can and should do to bring peace to our relationship came like water bursting from a dam (because I was ready for it to and willing to put in the work). Furthermore, an answer concerning my temple experience came in the form of a memory of something an extraordinary man of God I’d once worked with said: “Three socks.” While the connection to this phrase and my experience is not something I think I should explain, I can tell you that God had once inspired this man to impart some great wisdom to me, and I immediately felt I was clear on why it all had happened, and that Heavenly Father did still love me. (A note about this man and the “three socks”: I believe, firmly, that were it not for him and his sweetness, I might have been fully swallowed up by the bitter waters the “ex-mo” community was drowning me in. He’d once been helped in a great way by personal revelation, and I had nothing but love and respect for him. I could never bring myself to discount or explain away his experience that he’d shared with me. He’d become my tether back to strait and narrow path in a very profound way.)

In addition to this, I’d never stopped questioning an experience I’d had years prior that was a very personal, extraordinary, sacred experience. I will not publicly share the details of what I’d seen and felt, suffice it to say that I received remarkable heavenly help from people who love me very much. I could not forget or explain away this experience, try as I might. I knew in my heart that night that I’d be making my return to the Church. I reached out to the sister missionaries in my area and began reading the Book of Mormon all over again. I felt the scales being lifted from my eyes. I informed loved ones that I was going to go back to the Church, that there was no discouraging me from it, and they could take it or leave me. I deleted any and all ties I had to hostile influences who would disrespect my progress. I have not left since.

Heavenly Helpers and a Divine Heritage

Looking back at my life, I’m filled with gratitude as I recognize the hard work Heaven has put into preserving me. I’ve been blessed with a spirit that responds to divine guidance. I’ve been blessed to have a heart full of integrity because of the examples that have gone before me. My pioneer ancestors, my great-grandmother Elda who faithfully and kindly raised 6 large boys on a small farm faithfully with my great-grandpa Levi, my Irish ancestors who fought for their new home, my father… All of these people have left a strong impression on me from a young age. I credit all of them for my development into a person who does what she knows is right the second she gets the opportunity to do it.

Heaven has always reached out to me. No matter where I stray, Christ always comes to shepherd me home. I sometimes feel like I’m getting off easy, like I was getting all of this help as a reward to my ancestors for having honored their covenants. I can’t tell you how much the Lord has intervened in my life, only that I’m deeply humbled because of it.

Reading and listening to my family’s history, I’m moved by the remarkable experiences they’ve each had as well. While I again can not share these beautiful and sacred experiences out of respect to them, I can say that heavenly helpers have walked beside my family for generations. I know that everyone has access to this same source of help, too. I’m sure if I asked, a number of people would have multiple stories to share. Many more would tell me that they believe, but still desire to feel an undeniable, sacred experience.

I want to address those who are wondering, “When will I get my extraordinary experience?” Many mistakenly believe that God reaching out to us so boldly is a sign of favor (or more accurately, favoritism). They ask what they’ve been doing wrong and others so right. I want you all to know that heaven only extends these sorts of experiences to people who need them to continue on their path of righteousness, either physically or spiritually (or because their experience will help to convert someone else in their life). Moreover, we often tend to recognize them only after some time has passed. If you have not felt that heaven has done big things to help you, it may be because you’ve been doing a great job without requiring such boldness to continue. Furthermore, sometimes when heaven is moving large things for our good, it seems like everyday life, or we dodge a potential tragedy so well that we’d never know there was one to begin with! Again, this is a sign that you are already perfectly responsive as you are. Please don’t feel that you are unloved or abandoned simply because you don’t have huge, biblical spiritual experiences on a daily basis.

The Power of Prayer

Something we can all learn from my experiences is the power of prayer. It was only when I was ready to see and hear what was right in front of me that I was blessed with peace and help. I demonstrated my readiness via prayer. Prayer was my way of exercising my free agency for the better. Without my choosing to pray, to approach Heavenly Father, I would not have made the progress I did because I wouldn’t have known what to do in the first place. We absolutely must pray if we want any improvement to happen in our lives. Please bring your troubles, hopes, dreams, deepest emotions, and most secret thoughts to the Lord. It is the only way you can come out triumphant.

My experience with prayer has taught me a lot about the Restoration. I’ve learned that God still answers us just as He answered Joseph in the sacred grove. My experiences have strengthened my testimony of the Restoration. I believe that Joseph did, by the mighty power of prayer, in humility, seek God’s will as to which of the existing churches he should join. I believe that Joseph was answered in a bold, moving way. I believe that Satan tried to interfere with Joseph’s reception of this answer, as he has interfered with mine personally. I believe that Joseph heard Christ, that he found ancient scripture hidden away to be brought forth to serve our days and convert us to Christ. I believe that because of Joseph’s desire, my life, the lives of my ancestors, and the lives of my children will all have been greatly blessed. I am so grateful for prayer. Prayer truly brings about mighty works.

I want you all to know that you will never stray so far that God would not have you sit at His table again. You are never so far gone that repentance isn’t an option. If you have left, you can come back. If you have never believed, you are welcome to ask for help to believe. I ask you all to pray for your testimonies to be strengthened. Seek the Lord in all things. Be willing to go and do the things the Lord commands.

I hope that my experience and testimony can be a comfort to those who love someone who’s left the Church. Today, they may hold nothing but seething anger towards God and His Church. They may be more interested in things of the world or feel that they’d have to give up precious vices in order to come back. They may have left due to hurt or misunderstanding. No matter the circumstance, have hope. Give them your unconditional love while the Lord works on them. Be an example of a loving, faithful follower of Christ. Be a safe, nonjudgmental person they can turn to with questions, concerns, and even confessions. Your gentle ear could be the key to retrieving them. Allow them to come to know God’s never-ending love for them through you.

Let my experience be a lesson to you. God will test each and every single one of us in many ways. These trials will hurt — a lot. There will be an abundance of doubt, suffering, and loneliness. There will come times where we feel abandoned and unheard. God doesn’t allow us to feel these things for His own sick, sadistic entertainment. Rather, He allows these things to happen for our own growth and benefit, much like how He allowed Christ to be brutalized and crucified for all our sakes.

Please do not allow hard times or difficult challenges to have more power and influence in your life than the teachings of Christ. Do not stray away from the iron rod in belief that those in the great and spacious building are somehow wiser and more enlightened or having more fun or living with more purpose than you can by traveling toward the tree of life. If you are considering leaving the Church for any reason, let this be your sign that you need to stay. We know that these latter days are the days of immense trials, where the wheat will be separated from the tares. Do not mistake a lack of comfort or ease for a sign that God isn’t there and does not care for you.

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